


Howl

by kaermorhencalls



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Jaskier | Dandelion is a Size Queen, M/M, Mafia AU, Mob Boss Geralt, Modern AU, Penis In Vagina Sex, Squirting, Trans Jaskier | Dandelion, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, look this is vaguely mafia au because i didnt want to write an entire fic, this is for my boy percy bc we love this au a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:48:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23369503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaermorhencalls/pseuds/kaermorhencalls
Summary: You go when the White Wolf called. He was the boss, the kingpin, the protector, the winter winds and the ghost. Julian knew of him, but had never held more than a few moments conversation with the intimidating figurehead. So, when he was called to the man's penthouse suite, he couldn't imagine what he was in store for.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 11
Kudos: 643
Collections: Fave Stories of Queixo





	Howl

**Author's Note:**

> i dont really have any notes besides that this fic uses female-centric terms for lower anatomy so if that's not your jam this fic isnt for you. also no beta, we die like witchers

He’s the White Wolf. The one who strides through snow banks without a footprint behind, a whisper in the darkness of night with eyes that pierce even the veil and stare into death’s soul. He was the don, the boss, the man with the money and the power dangling like golden droplets from his fingertips, fine tailored suits hiding enough weapons to worry a town. He hid the fangs with his smile, the knives slipped into silken leather sheaths up his sleeves. He was a capped syringe filled with poison, sharp and deadly and dangerous above all, just hiding behind the decorum of socially acceptable attractiveness.   
  
People don’t notice when attractive men in suits in big cities do questionable things, especially with big name lawyers and the moles buried so deep in that they wouldn’t know what way was up if the sun asked them.

Geralt was one such man. He was the only man. Rivia was his, through and through. Nothing happened here without his fingers in it. Drugs, guns, smuggling, you name it, and he had hands in it. Not only the dark, seedly ins and out of the world, but his name was stamped on scholarships and hospital wings. He was philanthropic, and also insidious. A cancer that hides, biding its time to ruin some poor fool’s life.    
  
Clubs fronting for drug running and money laundering was nothing new to him, and in fact it was his favorite. It was easy, really, running the money through his girls and boys, through thirty or more different bank accounts on every night of the week. They were his, and they were protected and cared for. No one fucked with the White Wolf’s pack.    
  
And he had a new pup in his care.   
  
A bright and bubbly young man, eyes the color of the sky and silky soft brown hair. Not to mention the legs that seemed to never fucking end. He was spunky and funny and Geralt knew he’d fit in just fine with the wolves and their razor sharp teeth, perhaps even giving the others a run for their money.    
  
While he was the boss, his brothers ran different branches of his empire. One for drugs, one for guns, and another dealing with the clean up. They lived like kings, worked like dogs and howled like monsters.    
  
Dandelion was his stage name, a flower of all things. Geralt had no qualms about what they did outside of doing what he asked. So, if the new boy wanted to be referred to as a flower, then the wolf could care less. He’d learn that Geralt was quite hands-off, unless circumstances called for him to get his hands dirty. He’d also learn that when the wolf calls, you answer.   
  
And that’s where Julian found himself this afternoon, light pouring into this penthouse office dominated with a dark-wood desk and an impeccably dressed white-haired hulking mass of a man behind it dressed in clothes that probably cost more than Julian’s entire college education combined, tailored close to the body to show off the broad shoulders and relatively narrow waist of one White Wolf.   
  
“Welcome to the family, dear Jules.” And if the wolf gave you a nickname, you took it with pride. You wore it like a badge of honor. Julian had been told this by the girls he worked with, those who had been ‘friends’ of the wolf for years. He was a fair man, an honest man and boss. He was still as dangerous as a bullet in the chamber of a gun, but he would never place one of his family before the barrel unless absolutely necessary.    
  
Triss had once described him as a declawed big cat. Imposing and scary, still armed to the teeth but in a way people never thought of until it was too late.   
  
And here stood this twig-like college grad, like an offering to a god he didn’t know he was worshipping. To a god whose domain was death and life and humanity and murder. Who had one hand in heaven and one in hell.    
  
“Thank you, sir,” Julian responded quietly, hands tucked at his back. He’d worked at Morhen for maybe a year and a half now, but was only just now meeting his boss in person. He’d heard the man before, having been in the presence of Yennefer while on a conference call with the man, but never had he the pleasure of being in the Wolf’s presence. And the girls were right, Geralt was a human magnet, his presence highly intoxicating from the raw power permeating the space around him. The young man idly entertains the thought of being on the dangerous end of those hands, enough to bruise but not enough to hurt. To be claimed and owned like some sort of dog.   
  
He needed to get out more.    
  
A smirk tugged at the corner of that mouth, showing the barest flash of white teeth, of a canine that seemed to be just slightly too sharp to be fully human. “Please. Geralt is fine. You’re family, remember.”   
  
A shaky swallow accompanied a breathless smile. Julian knew right then and there, in that penthouse office overlooking the city, he was absolutely fucked. “Of course.”   
  
“Now. I’m sure you’re… Wondering why I had you brought here.” Geralt moved from his spot near the windows, stepping around the front of the desk and sitting against it, crossing his ankles as he folded his hands in his lap, those blazing golden eyes catching those pretty blue ones. Julian noticed, then, that the man was ridiculously handsome close up. Not that he wasn’t at a distance, but up close he looked more… human. Long-faded scars were a bit easier to see from a few feet away, one crossing over his lips and dipping down into the soft white stubble on his jaw caught the young musician’s attention the most.   
  
“Uh.. Y-yeah, actually,” Julian cleared his throat, feeling heat creep up his neck even as he looked away and out the window. “We haven’t actually spoken before, so this was... “   
  
“Odd?” Geralt offered easily, head tilting to the side just slightly, gilded eyes darting to the pink flush rising up the young man’s neck before back to catch his darting, nervous gaze. “I’m sure it is. I’m more of an observer. Letting people live their lives without too much interruption from me.”   
  
“Then why…?”   
  
“Because,” He stood then, tucking his hands into the pockets of his slacks and just stepping easily into the young man’s personal space. “Like I said, I watch people. I’ve watched you since you arrived in my little part of the world.”    
  
If anyone else would have said that to him, Julian would have called the police immediately. But hearing that from the powerhouse that is the White Wolf, well. The brunette could feel his pulse in every nerve ending his body had.   
  
“And?” The word came out with a tremble, having to look up just slightly to keep hold of that burning amber gaze locked onto him like a homing beacon. Julian’s entire body was burning, and he was probably one of very few people to ever have been so close to the man and not feel fear for one’s own life.    
  
A laugh, dark and warm like molten chocolate came from the boss, hand sliding from his pocket to tuck an unruly lock of brown hair behind the man’s ear. “I quite like what I see. And, judging by how red your poor face is right now, you don’t exactly mind.”   
  
Like a tiny mouse caught in a lion’s den, Julian’s heart was near to bursting from his chest as he swallowed and blinked wide, teeth sinking into the inside of his lower lip. A cluck of disapproval came from the mob boss, hand cradling the young man’s cheek as a surprisingly soft and gentle thumb rubbed over the swell of his lower lip. “Don’t bite.”   
  
The brunette could have died on the spot. And like that, he let the flesh out from between his front teeth, a shuddering breath escaping him. “Good boy.”   
  
Yep. He’s officially dead on the spot.   
  
The Wolf just smiled, and Julian could see dimples on his cheek and just how long his eyelashes were. With beauty comes danger, and the White Wolf wore them well. “You are a very good boy.”    
  
Julian didn’t realize his breath had escaped him as a shaky little huff until Geralt hummed, a thoughtful little noise as his thumb continued to stroke over his lower lip. With a surge of confidence, he parted his lips just slightly and poked the tip of his tongue out, staring up at the man before him in what seemed to be an invitation. He wanted something, anything.   
  
The wolf obliged, sliding the thumb into the man’s mouth and letting him wrap his pretty pink lips around it, a sucking pull on the flesh that grew a deep, rumbling  _ growl _ from the boss.   
  
“Careful, Dandelion,” He cautioned in a breath, lazily thrusting the thumb between the man’s lips. “You don’t know the game you’re playing.” And the wolf definitely knew how to play, if the tales from Julian’s co-workers were anything to go by. It wasn’t often that the Wolf pulled someone from the floor, but they were cherished when he did. It also wasn't apparent that the man had a preference or a type, but that curious people piqued his interest more than any kind of physical trait did.    
  
Not that any of his ex-partners were ugly by any stretch of the imagination. People would have to be blind to call Triss or Yen ugly, and Julian was gorgeous as well. The wolf loved fine things, fine people, and his sights were set on a thin brunette with legs for days and calloused fingers from instruments and muscles from his work. No waif of a person, but it certainly would be no obstacle to Geralt.   
  
Julian fluttered those long lashes of his, wrapping a hand around the wolf’s wrist, over the cold metal of the silver watch, and hollowed his cheeks around the digit between his lips as his tongue flicked once, twice, three times against his fingertip before letting it go, a silver thread of saliva trailing from the thumb to his lower lip. He could see the smirk on the boss’ lips, “Very well, then.” With the press of a hidden button, the door to the office locked and the blinds closed on the door, blocking the pair of them inside with the windows to the outside unobscured. “You should know what this entails.”   
  
The hand resting on the young man’s jaw slipped from his face to the back of his head, fingers tangling firmly in the soft brown locks as Geralt leaned back to sit against the desk once more, pulling the man closer to him, between his splayed legs. “You can say no at any time, Julian. You can walk out of those doors and back to your normal life. You will have no hits put out on you, nor will you have any special protection. All of the girls have received the same options, and they stay. But you,” Geralt pauses for a moment, looking the young man over. “I would hope you’d stay. You’ve seen what the girls have, seen what kinds of lives they live. I would propose the same to you. Perhaps more, since it seems you’re so inclined.” A flash of a cheeky grin, no doubt referencing the fact that the young man was just  _ sucking on one of the mob boss’ fingers. _ “You would be afforded all of the same things that Triss and Yen have. A home, a safety net, a job and enough money to live comfortably plus some.”   
  
Was Julian really here to sign a business contract, or was this something more? “What’s the catch?” His voice was breathy, those pretty blue eyes with wide pupils gazing at the wolf lounging against the desk.    
  
“No catch. Simply, I see more for you than just running for me. I see greatness in you. Something that makes you worth holding closer than the rest. Or, perhaps I just truly enjoy your company. Both are true.” Julian would have to be a liar if he said he hadn’t thought about it. He’d seen scant traces of the man before, but this is the first time they’ve held conversation truly. He held a certain kind of admiration for the powerful man that held him so softly. A crush, one could say, but one that was so thickly tangled in a strange sort of awe. The brunette licked his lips, and remembered the soft command that had been told to him: don’t bite.   
  
“And,” The blonde rumbled, tugging the younger man even closer so they were pressed chest to chest. He tipped his head down, an intense look on his face. “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the first time I met you. The girls, they’ve told me a lot about you, and I love everything I’ve heard. You’re smart, talented and good with people. I need more people like you around me.”   
  
Julian vaguely remembers telling the girls, in one of their post-show chill sessions, that he’d gladly let the boss fuck him if he asked. He instantly regretted telling either of them anything, though they were far closer to him than his own sisters. “Oh, you have?” A cheeky response from a man who was willing to lay his hand in the jaws of a wolf.    
  
Geralt only laughed, taking the response as a yes. “Knew there was something special about you. It seems that fear and you have never met.”   
  
The white wolf kissed him then, holding the brunette close by the back of his head, firm and slow and  _ sweet fucking god  _ Julian wanted to drown in it. The brunette slung his arms around the man’s neck, hands instantly flying to that silver head of hair, that he found soft as silk through his fingers.    
  
It was one thing to hear how the Wolf was. He was strong and confident and silent as the grave. He was cold, calculating and shrewd. He was a burning fire, a pure force of nature to be reckoned with. It was another thing entirely to experience him.    
  
Julian was quickly losing grip on his sane mind as the kisses grew harsher, sharper with the press of teeth and tongue and nails into the skin of his lower back. He gave as good as he took, though, digging his nails into the scalp of the wolf and pulling at his hair, goading the beast into just devouring him whole, earning a grrowl from the man that shot a thrill down his spine that spread through his nerves like wildfire on gasoline. 

They parted, and it left the brunette feeling oddly cold, but the fire returned when the blonde gripped the side of the man’s neck and tipped his head to the side as a mouth latched viciously to his neck, a strangled moan being punched out of him at the bite to the sensitive skin. It wasn’t so high to not be able to cover, but  _ fuck  _ was he going to cover that up. He’d wear that fucker like a badge of honor, like a battle scar deserving of its story told.

  
Geralt, meanwhile, was doing his very best not to just throw the lithe man onto the desk and fuck his brains out. He might be known as the White Wolf, but he was still a man beneath the facade. So, a compromise was made and he stood up, grabbing Julian under his ass and lifting him from the floor. He heard a noise of surprise as he held the young man aloft, long legs wrapping themselves around Geralt’s hips as he carried him to the leather sofa pushed up against the wall of windows. He knelt on the couch, laying the brunette down and kneeling between those long legs that he wanted to uncover, to discover how pale his skin got and just how he sounded when he fucked him.    
  
Julian scrambled to keep up, his mind a foggy haze of desire as his skin prickled with need to be touched, a heavy ache between his legs and  _ for fuck’s sake Geralt was huge.  _ He could feel how hard the man was, all pressed up against his aching body and making him moan, a needy little noise as he stared up at the wolf above him, those amber eyes blown wide and his face flushed.   
  
This was the most he’d ever seen the man disheveled, and it curled a heavy, burning satisfaction low in his gut.  _ He _ did that, and not everyone could say they made the Boss flush. Geralt stood up on his knees to undress, pausing when lithe hands went to the man’s vest, popping the buttons with practiced fingers as Geralt rid himself of his tie, dropping the silk fabric to the floor and shrugging out of the vest once it was undone. He did the same with his dress shirt, one hand popping the buttons while the other grabbed at the brunette’s inner thigh, winking down at him with a smirk.   
  
Julian could feel just how  _ wet _ he was even with his legs spread apart, a bolt of heat making him ache from that damn smirk. He bit down on his lip and batted his lashes pretty, one hand dropping back to his side while the other palmed the blonde’s cock through the fabric of his suit pants, earning slow rolls of those hips into the warmth of his hand. Just from the feel alone, the blonde was probably about as wide as three of Julian’s fingers, and that alone made him shiver. The bigger the better.   
  
“I’m guessing you like what you feel?” Geralt asked, voice rough like sandpaper over gravel as he let the white dress shirt slide off of his shoulders and join the rest of the cloth on the floor. His question earned a laugh, breathless and soft from Julian, who licked his lips.    
  
“You’re damn right,” His voice was uneven, sitting up just a bit to rid himself of his shirt and unbutton his pants, turning to the side and pulling up his leg left for just a moment to yank the pants down and off, leaving him in just a small pair of white panties. Geralt watched all of this with an intense look on his face, one of a heated desire, and he dragged those hips back towards him once those offending jeans were on the floor. “And, do you? Like what you see?”   
  
Geralt tips his head to the side, a wicked grin on his lips as he tugged the leg of the brunette’s underwear to the side, deft fingers easily sliding between those soaking folds and stroking over the man’s swollen clit in precise circles and pulling a low groan from him. “I’d say so, yeah. You’re a mess, already. Needy little thing, aren’t you?”   
  
Julian choked out a laugh, hips rolling down against those rough fingers. He didn’t have the capacity to respond in that moment, the wolf playing his body like an instrument that he’d known for years. The bastard was good and knew what he was doing and Julian had a feeling he was going to ruin this sofa by the end of it. He sucked a sharp breath in when the hand left his body, watching the glistening fluid on those fingertips before the wolf sucked them clean, a hum of approval coming from him as they left his mouth with a pop.    
  
Geralt didn’t waste much time then, popping the button on those expensive suit pants of his and pulling himself free of the fabric without much fanfare, but the look on the brunette’s face was enough to make him chuckle. Julian licked his lips as he stared down at the man’s ridiculously pretty cock, not to mention that it was probably the biggest real life cock he had ever been tempted to have ruin his life.    
  
“Fuck  _ me _ , they were not lying when the girls said you were packing heat.” Julian’s comment was breathless and colored with shock, and it just made Geralt laugh, the grin making his eyes crinkle.    
  
“Glad to get your stamp of approval, there, Dandelion,” He purred, dipping back down to bite at Julian’s neck, drawing breathy groans from the thinner man as he dug nails into the backs of his shoulders, carving paths of heat down his skin with those blunted nails of his. But, Julian was not in the slightest bit patient and soon enough he had locked his legs back around his hips and dragged him close with a little while and a pout on those kiss-bruised lips of his.    
  
“You’re impatient.” Geralt stated plainly, pressing a single last kiss to those pouting lips as he reached between Julian’s legs once more to pull the dampened cotton aside, hearing a seam start to pop as he tugged the gusset fully to one side of the man’s sex, swollen and pink and wet. He could smell the arousal from here, and he hummed in appreciation. If Julian hadn’t been so turned on, he might’ve been embarrassed by someone staring so hard at his body, but he seriously took the compliment. “You’re also fucking gorgeous.”   
  
Slowly, carefully, he rubbed himself along the slickened folds of the other’s body, a shudder firing down Julian’s lithe body, his thighs splaying open further as he pulled himself closer with his legs on the wolf’s hips. “Come on, then. Fuck me, wolf.” He grumbled, pouting up at the blonde, who arched a brow but obliged, carefully pressing the head of his cock into his body.    
  
Julian moaned, feeling the stretch send a wave of heat through his body, squeezing softly around the intrusion without trying to. He vaguely heard the blonde groan at it, but he could mostly hear the rush of blood in his ears as the wolf filled him up until it felt like he was fucked up into his ribs with how deep he was. He just wanted the man to fuck him, and it seemed like that wish was easily granted, and Julian wondered if he had in fact said it out loud, if the little laugh was anything to go by.   
  
And fuck the White Wolf did, digging fingers into the brunette’s hips and rutting into him with slow drags of his hips, not going exactly quick, but fucking hard into him despite the speed. Julian stopped himself from getting shoved up the couch with an arm braced against the arm of the sofa, the other grabbing at Geralt’s arm. Gods fucking above, he’d never expected this to be happening today, but he’d never look a gift horse in the mouth. The noises coming from his mouth didn’t stop, the moans being fucked out of him. Everything was almost too much, his body alight with desire and pleasure as the man’s girth rubbed every single hotspot inside of him and made his head swim.   
  
This was ridiculous, the brunette though idly in between his brain being completely scrambled, that Geralt was this good at literally fucking everything. And fucking, especially. The intensity of it all ramped up when Geralt started fucking him in earnest, his thighs quivering with the mounting bolts of pleasure running through his body. Julian could feel himself growing wetter and wetter, choppy and staccato moans coming from his mouth with every thrust the wolf delivered into him.    
  
It started with one slow stroke out, the ridge of the man’s cock pressing rough against his walls and dragging a gush of fluids from his body. Julian’s eyes popped open, mouth poised to apologize when Geralt snapped back into him and dragged out slowly, head bowed to watch the event unfold. A choked moan came from the blonde as the fluids shot out far enough to soak into the dark navy fabric of his slacks.   
  
“Fucking hell, dollface,” He breathed, licking his lips and rubbing hands over the soft skin of Julian’s thighs. The panting brunette was about to apologize, again, but was interrupted. “That’s hot. Don’t try and apologize.”   
  
“... Alright,” Julian breathes out, letting his head drop back against the sofa with his body aching as Geralt had stilled inside of him to talk and reassure the brunette. “If you could get back to fucking my brain out, that’d be nice.”   
  
To that, Geralt eagerly went back to it, starting to build the rhythm back up until their hips were crashing together with wet squelches, Julian able to actually relax and not be afraid of his partner being grossed out by his overexcited responses.    
  
He could feel the tension building in his body after a bit of rough, needy fucking, panting and trembling as his back arched off of the sofa. “Fuck, Geralt, I-I’m,” His words were cut off with a strangled moan, his legs entirely tense as he teetered right on the edge of orgasm. Geralt could feel the throbbing muscles around his cock, and ground down into him, a sharp cry coming from the brunette as he came undone.    
  
Geralt was standing right on the edge as well, his rhythm broken by the other’s tight and soaking orgasm around him, transforming into a desperate rut, chasing that crystalline high. He almost lost it completely, withdrawing from his partner with a strangled moan just to spill on the young man’s stomach, bucking hips up into the air and painting wet streaks over the soft skin.   
  
The only thing that was heard in the office was heavy, labored breathing and the chirp of birds from outside, a nest of doves on the ledge just beside the windows. Geralt sat back on his feet, leaning on the back of the couch so he didn’t crush the prone body beneath him. Julian didn’t look much better, his arms thrown over his face as he came down from the high of his orgasm, neck marred angry red from the kisses and bites with a puddle on the leather between his legs, his entire body flushed a healthy pink.    
  
Geralt was the first to move, tucking himself back into the now drenched fabric of his dress pants and boxers before standing from the sofa. Julian cracked a powder blue eye to watch, the blonde opening a drawer to his desk and pulling out what looked to be a roll of soft blue cloths, softer than paper towels, before returning to the sofa and beginning to softly clean the brunette’s spent body of the blonde’s cum, throwing the cloth away before finishing wiping him clean. It was then when Julian realized the absolute mess he’d made, the entire lap of the man’s nice dress pants completely wet, as well as splotches over the upper thighs.    
  
“I’m sorry for not warning you,” He mumbled quietly, one arm now propped under his head while the other was slung laziny over his now-clean stomach. He got a funny look from Geralt, and gestured at the state of his pants and the sofa. “I don’t usually… Make such a mess.”   
  
“Please. Don’t apologize for being so turned on that you literally come on me,” He said with a grin, taking a handful of shop towels and soaking up the puddle. “It’s hot, and we should do it again. Maybe after dinner?”   
  


* * *

  
Like everyone said, you always went when the wolf called. You did what he asked, when he asked it, and you were rewarded for it. Julian knew it first hand, and could tell you that the white wolf loved as hard as he worked, and loved deeper than anyone could have guessed. He was lucky, though, not everyone could stand with the blizzard and howl just as loud.


End file.
